


Stab Wounds

by orphan_account



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb)
Genre: M/M, but i don't know how to finish fics so you don't see much of that, heavily based on real life experience lmao, is that a tag ??, recovery is a bitch, stab wounds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-29 02:35:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19820773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: So it turns out, getting stabbed reaaaaally sucks. And this is based on an experience I had like half a year ago lmao. So now, of course, I can write how That feels accurately !





	Stab Wounds

“Wade.” Peter hissed from outside the window, grasping desperately at the webbing he had hastily smothered against his thigh. In all honesty, though, the attempt hadn’t done much to stop or slow any of the blood flow. “ _ Wade!! _ ” Peter tried again, dread heavy in his stomach like a rock. 

He heard a soft, “Huh??” and then movement. Peter thought he could’ve cried in relief, though it turned out that he couldn’t anyway. A thud was heard, more movement, and then the window opened. 

“Well if it isn’t–” Wade seemed to take in the situation, because he became scarily silent. After what felt like ages, he finally spoke again, his voice dark and angry. “What the hell is this? What happened??” 

“I-I can explain afterwards, but I need help. I didn’t know who else to turn to, I can’t do hospitals and–” 

“Hey, baby boy, calm down. You’re gonna be okay.” The tone shift was immediate, though there was an underlying layer of tautness. “Everything’s gonna be okay. Can you stand up?” 

“Yeah… Just hurts…” Which was an understatement. With all the adrenaline and the shock, Peter hadn’t felt the damage right away; which only made things worse when he had tried to stand up and the tissue contracted painfully; immediately falling on his ass didn’t help much, either. 

“Okay. Well… Here, I’ll just…” Wade stepped over the threshold and pulled him into his arms, frowning sympathetically when he let out a pained groan. Peter kept his hand firmly over the webbing, blood coating his hands and caking underneath his fingernails. 

It was a bit awkward trying to maneuver back into the apartment, the occasional sounds of pain coming from Peter whenever Wade happened to jostle him too much, and the ungraceful movements from Wade as he tried to fit into the window. Eventually, he set Peter on the couch. 

“Alright, Webs, I’m gonna have to cut off this off to see the damage, alright?” Wade tugged at the edges of the web fluid. Peter could only nod and take his hand off the webbing; his frown was apparent through his mask when his hand shook uncontrollably now that it wasn’t applying pressure to the wound. Whether that was from blood loss or shock, he didn’t know. 

“Did you swing here like this?” Wade asked him, peeling back the edges of his suit to look at the wound. 

“I… Yeah. It hurt, but I didn’t know what else to do.” 

“Uh… Called me, maybe? Would’ve saved you a few pints of blood, baby boy, that’s for sure. Fuck…” Wade muttered under his breath.

“What is it?? Is something wrong?” 

“‘Is something wrong?’ he asks, like he doesn’t have a gash in his thigh…”

“I didn’t hit anything important, did I?” 

“Did you do this to yourself??” His tone shifted again, and Peter wished Wade would stop doing that, because it felt like he was going to get whiplash every time he did. 

“No!! I just… I didn’t see the knife until it was too late. I was trying to stop a mugging and… I honestly think he was just as shocked as I was.” 

Wade was silent for a few tense moments. And then, “You didn’t hit an artery; blood loss rate would’ve been a lot higher and faster,” Wade poked a finger at his chest. “Especially if that was racing like it is now. You did hit a vessel, though. I’ll have to stitch that up and then close the rest. I don’t have any pain meds, so if you’d like a shoe to bite on, let me know.” He said tersely, before he stood up and left the room. 

Peter was left to himself, and he studied his shaking hand for a minute or two. He wasn’t left to do that for long, though, because blood gushed out of his thigh, and Peter instinctively put his hand back on the wound in hopes to stop it. It felt wrong, and he couldn’t help the groan that left him at the sensation. It hadn’t been the first time it happened that night, but it had never failed to catch him off guard.

“Everything okay in here?” Wade asked, and he came in with a dusty-looking first-aid kit. 

“Y-Yeah, I just… It just…” 

“Shit, it ain’t stopping, huh? I’ll do this quick, okay?” 

The sutures burned, but not as bad as Wade made it seem like they would. The only terrible part was when he was stitching up the vessel; Peter was scared that he was going to break Wade’s couch with how hard he was gripping it. 

“There… All done, okay? Snug as a bug in a… Well, y’know.” His thigh had swelled to about twice its regular size, but he knew it would go away fairly quickly with his healing factor, and that the stitches would be able to come out in a week, if not a few days. “You wanna tell me what happened, now?”

“There’s… Not much to tell. Like I said, I tried to stop a mugging, didn’t see the knife and then…” He trailed off.

“You know you could’ve died tonight, right?” Wade asked seriously. “If this had been left as it was… Your healing factor isn’t like mine. It doesn’t just close up wounds all willy nilly because you can’t die. If you had passed out, lost enough blood, things could have played out very differently.” 

“I… I know.” 

“ _ Do you? _ ” Wade gripped his hand tightly, and Peter was caught off guard by the seriousness of it all; of the seriousness he had displayed during the entire situation. “If things had gone differently, if you had died–” 

“I didn't.” Peter cut him off, feeling like he had shoved his foot in his mouth. 

“You  _ could’ve _ .” Wade let go of his hand and ran his hand down the side of his mask. “And then I–” He scoffed. “This  _ city _ would’ve lost the best thing that ever happened to it,” 

“Wade…” Peter was at a loss for words. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Wade said, taking a wet washcloth off the coffee table. He paused, then looked up at him from where he was kneeling. “Any chance you can take this one leg off?” 

“Yeah, my suit comes off in different parts, I totally designed it like that.” 

“Hey, no need to get snarky with me - though I am glad to see you’re feeling better already. Tell you what, I’ll let you borrow some of my clothes and we can work that off of ya.” 

“Mask stays on.” Peter said seriously, and Wade waved him off.

“That kinda went without saying, baby boy, I like privacy too. That's why I still got mine on.” Wade gestured vaguely towards his face. “Anyways, it'd probably be best to clean up the suit. Washer okay, or you one of those 'dry clean only!!!!’ weirdos?” 

“I'll take care of it when I get home.” Peter said. 

“And when do you plan on doing that? Not tonight, I hope.” 

“I don't see why I couldn't.” 

“You stand on that, you're liable to pop some stitches, and that's the last thing we need. You can chill on the couch; I'll leave you alone, but it ain't safe for you to just be walking around.” Wade crossed his arms, suddenly serious again. 

“Why is this such an issue?” 

“Why is it a - Spidey, you almost fucking died tonight. Do you not realize that?” 

Peter stood up, not even touching his other leg to the ground. “I get it. But I heal fast, and I'll be fine. I could probably swing home, to be honest…” 

Wade followed him shortly afterwards, still crossing his arms as he watched Peter wobble precariously. “Mhm. I’m sure you’ll do just fine with. Go then.” Peter hesitated, the lenses of his mask squinting at Wade. “Go! Why’re you still here if you’re so confident you can just make it home?” 

“Are you… Trying to reverse psychology me?” Peter asked. 

“I’m waiting for you to try and walk to that window and pass out because you’re tired and lost a shit ton of blood.” Wade said. “You came to me for help. So either you let me finish helping ya or you pass out in the streets because you’re not at your strongest right now. It’s just a couch. It’s not gonna devour you if ya sleep on it for a couple of hours.” 

“That’s not… The issue.” Peter said, looking away. 

“Then what is?” 

“I’m gonna need help -” 

“Yeah, and you came to me for help -” 

“I’m gonna need help changing, Wade. I don’t know if I can take off this whole thing on my own and it’s slick and sticky with blood and it’s awful -” 

“Hey, hey. Calm down, okay? One thing at a time. I said I’d help ya. I’m not gonna do anything you don’t want me to, and I’ve dealt with blood before, Webs. It’s hard to clean out, but it’ll be alright. I clean blood out of my suit almost every week.” 

“I really don’t want to think about that.” Peter said. 

“It’s usually mine. Usually. Point is, is that you’re gonna be alright, and I’m gonna help you, okay?” 

“Can you help me get to the bathroom?” 

“Oh, but you were gonna web home, huh?” Wade teased, hooking Peter’s arm around his shoulder. 

“I was probably just gonna sleep on the roof or something until I could move around better.” Peter admitted. After a few moments, he grimaced at how painstaking it was just to walk a few feet. “Let’s just -” 

“Baby boy, wait -” 

Peter decided in that moment that using all his strength to borderline drag both him and Wade to the bathroom was the proper way to forgo the painstaking task before them. When they finally got to the bathroom, Peter swayed and said, “I need to sit down.” 

“Alright, you just… sit on the tub.” Wade told him, unprepared for Peter to sit down and completely fall back into it. “What the fuck? Webs??” He grabbed him and pulled him out onto the floor. Peter didn’t say anything for awhile, and Wade decided to go about checking the stitches to see if he pulled any. The wound was bleeding again and he frowned. “Dammit, Spidey…” 

“Where ‘m I?” Peter asked after a while, voice slurred. 

“You passed out. I put you on the floor because you fell into the bathtub. Give a dude a warning next time, though, I didn’t know what you were even doing.” 

“Sorry…” 

“It’s alright. I’m gonna try and take your suit off. Is that okay?” 

“Yeah… Just -” 

“Leave the mask on, I know. I’m not that negligent, baby boy.” 

“Mhmm…” Peter murmured. 

“And you were gonna swing home.” Wade said again. 

“No, I wasn’t. You know that.” 

“I’m still gonna give you shit for it. That was probably the stupidest thing that’s ever come out of your mouth.” 

“Not the stupidest thing. Definitely not the stupidest.” Peter lifted his mask up to his nose. “Ugh… That’s better.” 

Wade pretended that he didn’t sneak a glance. “That could’ve been another reason you passed out; not enough air. Especially after you decided to pull me seven feet to a bathroom that wasn’t gonna go anywhere. What was that about?”

“It was just… a lot. It was slow and hard and…” 

“Yeah, it’s gonna be, baby boy; recovery is a bitch. But you came to me for help, y’know? I can’t help ya if you don’t let me.. I know you got this whole… Stubborn, ‘I’m gonna do it by myself’ thing going on, but this is a little bit bigger than all of that. Yeah, you heal fast, but not as fast as me. Which means your healing factor is shit as far as it’s concerned right now.” 

“I just wanted to get it over with.” Peter said. 

“Well, you can’t afford that right now, alright?” Peter let out a sigh, and didn’t speak for a few minutes. 

“Alright…” He said after awhile. 


End file.
